From New York With Love
by EfThe1
Summary: Summary: Holiday cheer doesn't come in a minute; neither does the realization that maybe what you have been searching for all your life might be right in front of your eyes. Santana needed to know her name, she needed to encounter her again.


**1**

_Holiday Cheer_

She hated days like this. She hated the droplets of snow cascading down the outside of the coffee shop and the constant chatter of people during the holidays; they always seemed filled with joy and holiday cheer. No one noticed her – at least, not when she was dressed like this and when her expression was showed nothing but extreme distaste for Christmas. God, you'd think New York would be fun during winter, but it's the opposite for Santana – the freezing cold and the constant 'Happy Holidays, ma'am!' from unknown people just beckoned her bad mood.

Santana used to like Christmas, really, she did. But ever since her abuela stopped spending Christmas with the Lopez household back in Lima, Santana lost the prospect of holiday cheer. Leave it to her grandma to suck the last bit of joy she possessed. And it wasn't as if she wouldn't like to go back to Lima to enjoy some quality time with her mom and dad, but it was just so exhausting. She didn't have the energy or the time to go back; well, she had time, she just thought it was better to waste her downtime on herself, rather on entertaining annoying relatives who always expected to hear news from your 'blossoming career'; photography wasn't really something that paid off to extremes. Her parents could do fine without her for another year.

And you'd also think Santana would have met people who were worthy of her time, but surprisingly, she hadn't. Some people would blame it on her bitterness and cranky attitude – her dad in particular – but she genuinely believed the people in her college were plain, boring. Even Quinn – her roommate – thought she should spend more of her free time meeting new people. As if Quinn didn't know her from High School.

Okay, maybe Santana was here to bump into some random stranger during the day, and okay, maybe she had hoped for someone to sit and talk to her, but everyone was too sucked into the Christmas spirit to acknowledge one lonely Santana sitting in the corner of the coffee shop just a few blocks away from her apartment.

She watched the snow slowly falling down from the roof onto the busy streets of Brooklyn, some of them falling onto stranger's coats, others just adding to the pile on the corners of the building. She had this strange urge to wipe off the snow from the passerby's clothing, perhaps Santana was developing some form of obsessive compulsive disorder, but it wasn't like she couldn't keep control of her own life, or some compulsive urge to keep everything in check. Because honestly, Santana has had some trouble paying the bills these past few months, but she really wouldn't admit it to herself – or her parents – she was too prideful to ask for help; she'd just learn to manage on her own.

Santana sighed; twirling the hot coffee in front of her with her finger, something that had become a habit ever since she found out coffee could be as addicting as any drug. Coffee just made her happy, okay? Especially in cold days like these. She licked the coffee off her finger and rested her cheek on the palm of her hand, waiting for the minutes to tick by until she could leave for her next class – which was roughly half-an-hour long.

Maybe chatting with someone interesting would keep her entertained for forty-five-minutes. Still, Santana scanned the room, searching for some potential target for conversation.

"Here you go miss". The waiter's voice makes her blink and come back to reality. She'd better order a coffee to go or she was going to die of exhaustion in her 20th century film class.

"Excuse me" Santana calls, raising her in an attempt to call the waiter over. He was a boy, not even twenty-years-old yet from what Santana was guessing, and he did nothing but glance at her direction and turn to another table. Santana pressed her lips together, clearing her throat and following the boy's steps across the coffee shop. "Hey, kid, I'm talking to you!"

"I'd like a Hot Chocolate, please. And if you could add the little marshmallows, it would be about perfect".

"Of course, ma'am. Just a second".

Santana's irritation was starting to get the best of her. Maybe she had been a little rude to him when she had first walked in, but wasn't he supposed to be polite to earn a damn tip? Because, last time she checked, waitressing only brought a small portion of income. But Santana didn't get up; it was too chilly for her to attempt to bring the kid to her table, so she just gritted her teeth and called again.

"Hey! Over here, I've been calling you for the past ten minutes!"

"Excuse me?" It was that hot chocolate woman again. Santana couldn't let her anger win her over, so she just looked over at the source, attempting to have a good chat with this woman before she left the coffee shop. "I think that girl over there was trying to call your attention".

Santana cocked an eyebrow, and ignored the waiter as he just shrugs and leaves to the kitchen.

She had to be a college student; she was roughly older than twenty, and she wore this smile that surpassed any other who flailed with holiday cheer. Santana had always been attracted to blondes, even if she never dared to admit to her college folks that she was into girls, but she had been caught looking a few times by her fellow classmates. Usually girls – it would explain why Santana never had a boyfriend around.

But what intrigued Santana the most was that this girl was looking right back at her, eyebrows arched and that darn adorable smile on her face. Santana frowned, tilting her head to the side and making eye contact with the stranger. That's when she noticed the sky blue eyes that sparkled under the light, piercing right through her, almost like they bared into her soul. Santana swallows and the stranger smiles wider, causing Santana to blink.

_Was she staring right back at me, or am I imagining things? Maybe I should thank her for acknowledging I was calling that ass hole of a waiter… Get a grip, Lopez. Just because she's looking at you and is probably one of the most beautiful women you've seen by far, doesn't mean she's into chicks too. What are the odds?_

"Here's your coffee, miss".

Santana diverts her eyes from the stranger, once she realizes she had probably been leering for too long, and turns to her coffee and tab. She sighs – prices for coffee just seemed to rise daily – and places a twenty dollar bill in between the little booklet that held the receipt.

"I hope you enjoy your coffee…" The woman's voice comes right beside her and Santana flinches. She looks up to meet the sky blue eyes again and is met by a warm smile, but before she has time to say anything, the stranger glances at her tab and grins. "Santana".

"Wait!"

But the girl was out of hearing range. Santana turns around to watch her walk away, because damn – she had a nice ass. . This stranger left Santana intrigued, mostly because she wasn't sure why she was so drawn to her. She needed to find her again; Santana needed to know her name.


End file.
